


Hourglass

by gleefulmusings



Series: Bits and Pieces [8]
Category: Days of Our Lives, Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family Secrets, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1601411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulmusings/pseuds/gleefulmusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kurt's mother is not who he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hourglass

"Are you sure you're comfortable, son?" asked an anxious Burt, forcibly restraining himself from reaching over and fluffing the boy's pillows.

Kurt repressed a sigh and only barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Instead, he offered a soft smile.

"I'm fine, Dad," he insisted. "Really."

Burt gave his son a suspicious look but said nothing, returning to drumming his nails on the arms of his miserable bucket chair. His nervous eyes scanned the room. He supposed it was a step up from St. Rita's, at least in terms of decor, but all hospital rooms were basically the same. Sterile, uncomfortable, astringent, and depressing.

He thought the fake plants in this room were of better quality, but they needed to be dusted. The fluorescent lights buzzed louder than the ones back in Ohio. The sheets were scratchier, but there were more and better television stations.

He had to think of anything other than why they were there.

Kurt was amused, though not a little exasperated. "Dad, everything's going to be okay. I believe that, and you should as well. I've been in remission for almost a year now. This is nothing more than a checkup."

Burt prayed his son was right. He knew how very lucky they had been, how lucky Kurt was even to be alive, let alone cancer-free these last months. Of course, they had lost a lot, as well.

Finn and Kurt, who had been dating in everything but name, had been the first casualty. Finn just hadn't been able to cope with the idea that Kurt might die, and though he had never officially broken things off, he had stopped calling and visiting. In a way, that was worse than a breakup, for he had allowed Kurt to linger in hope for far too long.

Burt didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive Finn for that, and it had led to the destruction of his relationship with Carole. Oh, they had loved each other very much, and Carole had been in agreement with him that Finn had been cruel, even if unintentionally. In the end, though, they couldn't see their own relationship having any kind of future. Marrying each other after their sons had dated seemed bizarre, and the idea of Carole and Finn moving into Burt's house had been all but laughable.

Once his relationship with Finn had fizzled, Kurt hadn't pursued other romances, though transfer student Sam Evans had pursued him relentlessly. Kurt had shied away, though, too afraid to fall in love with Sam, too afraid to have Sam fall in love with him, only for him to die.

Kurt now counted Sam as a good friend, but whenever they were together, it was obvious to everyone that both boys were trapped by the idea of what might have been.

After Kurt's diagnosis became known among his friends, Finn had run right back to Quinn, who had decked him and then left him to Mercedes' tender mercies, with that punk Puckerman lending his assistance. At last, Finn found comfort in the welcoming arms of Rachel Berry.

Burt felt so sorry for Carole. No one should be inflicted with Rachel Berry if it could be avoided.

And then Quinn Fabray, the selfish, superficial former cheerleader who had just given her baby up for adoption, had experienced some kind of rebirth. It started with her befriending Kurt. Burt, although suspicious, appreciated her efforts, and he could see how much the girl and his son had in common. It was almost freaky.

Then, before he knew it and without his consent, he had found himself on a date with Judy Fabray.

Quinn was known to be diabolical, and Kurt was no slouch either. Burt knew his son was trying to distract him in an effort for him to focus on something other than his breakup with Carole and his son's health.

Strangely, it had worked. He and Judy were now engaged. Quinn and Kurt, having earlier established themselves as spiritual twins, now considered it physical. That they had been born only a few days apart lent it credence. Quinn was already relishing her mother's upcoming marriage, anxious to relieve herself of the burden of her father's name and all it represented.

"I wish Quinn could have come with us," Kurt said quietly, his longing for his sister heavy in his tone.

Burt patted his hand. "Me too, son, me too."

And it was true; he also wished for Quinn and Judy's presence. They had been through so much of Kurt's treatment that their absence felt alien. They had been towers of strength for the Hummel men, especially Quinn, who had absolutely believed with every fiber of her being that Kurt would beat the cancer.

It was so close to graduation, however, and Quinn was determined to be the valedictorian, if only to prove to herself that it was possible, not to mention forcing Figgins to eat crow. She had easily overtaken Mike, Tina, and Rachel in the class standings; only Santana, Artie, and, surprisingly, Brittany had stood in her way. Quinn had pushed herself hard this past year, edging past Santana and Brittany, and was now only a few hundredths behind Artie.

Burt fully expected her to triumph.

"But you know you wouldn't trust anyone other than Quinn to take notes for you and turn in your assignments."

Kurt grimaced, but agreed. He was determined to remain in the top ten, and if he couldn't be valedictorian, he wanted it to be either Quinn or Artie. "You're right." He sighed. "How's the hotel?"

"It's actually very nice," Burt said, which was surprising, considering the affordable cost. He had money, and truly great health insurance, but he was frugal. After his heart attack, he had been terrified he would die and leave his son with nothing: no money, no family, no hope.

He had started eating better, cutting back on the beer, and even working out, only for Kurt to fall victim to disease. Sometimes he wondered if Kurt was right about there being no god. He couldn't even stomach the thought of burying his son, not after burying his wife.

It was only by happenstance that they had discovered the cancer. Burt had hemmed and hawed about his follow-up care with his cardiologist. He took his medication religiously and had followed the other guidelines, but something about going back to St. Rita's terrified him, even if it was only for a well-visit.

Kurt had told him he was being a big baby. After the first month, Kurt had stopped coddling him and demanded Burt put his life back together. It had been an abrupt change, and Burt hadn't liked it. In the beginning, he had bitched and moaned about how overprotective and suffocating Kurt had been, and his son had listened. Kurt continued to do all of his chores and had taken over the bookkeeping for the shop, but he had decided to let Burt handle everything else.

Burt had been totally unprepared.

He didn't know how to grocery shop. He didn't know what foods to buy or what was safe for him to have. He'd had to draw up a schedule of when to take his medications, as well as their side effects and when they needed to be refilled. He hadn't a clue about the myriad mysteries of health insurance and coinsurance and benefits and preferred providers. He didn't know how to cook for himself or do his own laundry or a host of other things which left him feeling embarrassed and impotent.

He was also ashamed, because it wasn't until after his heart attack that he realized how much he had come to rely on Kurt to take care of the everyday matters. Burt went out and made the money, and Kurt had somehow become a desperate housewife: cooking, cleaning, shopping, paying the bills, yardwork. The list was endless, and Burt had taken it for granted.

He had needed help. Desperately.

And then his son had graciously swooped in and taken back control. Nothing was said tacitly, no concessions were made, and Kurt never once said _I told you so_ , though he had certainly been entitled. But Burt had learned, and there was no way he was going to go back to the way it was before. Kurt didn't deserve that onus, and Burt had refused to place it on him.

Against Kurt's wishes, Burt had hired a part-time caregiver, a lovely woman named Adela who was a licensed practical nurse and home health aide. She organized his health affairs, did some light cleaning, and drove him to his appointments until he was cleared to return to work. Kurt hadn't liked someone else in _his_ house, believing her presence said something about his lack of ability, but he had warmed to her eventually.

And then, on his last appointment with his cardiologist other than as needed follow-ups, Burt had been scheduled for an MRI. Mildly claustrophobic, though never admitting to it, he had been uneasy about crawling inside a big metal tube and then laying there for a considerable length of time. An exasperated Kurt had agreed to do it first, just to show him there was nothing to fear, and his doctor had laughingly agreed.

The laughter hadn't lasted.

Islet cell carcinoma.

Pancreatic neuroendocrine tumor.

A tumor. His son had a fucking _tumor._

Then came a flurry of bloodwork, x-rays, CT scans, MRIs, referrals, specialists, and it had all been too fast.

His son, his baby, had _cancer_.

There were the good things. It had been found early. Kurt was lucky, allegedly, that his tumor was what it was, which presented in only five percent of pancreatic cancers. The other ninety-five were adenocarcinoma, which Burt knew was almost always fatal.

That was what had killed Kurt's mother.

There were the symptoms which had suddenly struck, predominantly stomach ulcers and hypoglycemia, which Kurt preferred to the other end of the spectrum, which included diabetes and other associated hormonal problems.

There had been the surgery, which had removed most of the slow-growing tumor, but the horrifying discovery that the tumor had been in the process of metastasizing into the bone.

That led to the radiation, the chemotherapy, and all of their side effects.

Burt had thought Kurt would have lost it completely once his hair began falling out, but his amazing son continued to be only more amazing. Never once had Kurt complained; not when he was throwing up, not when he had to be carried to the bathroom, not when his beloved clothes no longer fit his increasingly-shrinking frame, and not when his friends began distancing themselves, too afraid the next time they saw him would be the last.

But Quinn had been there through it all, as had Artie and Brittany, who had brought Santana with her.

Burt would never forget the day when Santana Lopez had told his cancer-ridden son to hurry the hell up into remission, because his disease was doing nothing for his once-prized complexion.

It was only his son's hysterical laughter that kept Burt from bodily throwing the girl from his house.

When his own body had betrayed him, Burt had become sullen and thoughtless, while Kurt, on the other hand, had retained his dignity and grace. It was never more clear to him that he had been meant to learn from his son, not the other way around.

Kurt had gotten through it. He had triumphed. If he ever suspected he might not, he had told no one.

And now, here they were, almost a year later. Almost one year cancer-free.

Burt prayed to every deity whose name he had ever heard that it would last.

Right, it was time to nip maudlin thoughts in the bud, because the longer he focused on them, the more unsettled Kurt became.

"So," Burt slyly began, "are you excited to see Dr. Brady again?"

Kurt blushed furiously. "That has nothing to do with anything," he hissed.

But Burt was enjoying himself now. He had forgotten how much he liked teasing his son, and he was proud of himself for now being able to tease Kurt about boys. He had come along way with his latent homophobia and backhanded comments. He was closer now to Kurt than ever before, and Eric Brady had a lot to do with that.

"He's very nicely put together," Burt said in a lazy voice. "He also looks a lot like that Dean guy on that show you watch."

Kurt pursed his lips. "You mean the one _you_ watch? The one for which you have every season's DVD release? I'm not the only _Supernatural_ freak in our house."

Burt nodded. That was true. He loved the show; never missed it. Good writing and acting gave it a credibility it wouldn't have in less capable hands. It reminded him a lot of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ , but Kurt didn't know Burt liked that show. And he never would.

Kurt sighed gently and gave a soft smile. "Still, it will be nice to see Dr. Brady again."

Burt knew when to pick and choose his battles, and this was one from which he was happy to walk away. If Kurt had a crush on Dr. Brady, who cared? At least his son had good taste, though that had never been in question. Except for Finn.

He shook his head to dislodge thoughts of the boy.

The bottom line was that Brady had been good for his son. Kurt hadn't liked most of his doctors, many of whom were jaded or too busy to extend even the most basic of courtesies. Eric Brady had been an oncology fellow at St. Rita's when he had been assigned Kurt's case, and he had been a breath of fresh air. He had been very hopeful about Kurt's prognosis and had insisted the Hummel men be as well; he hadn't tolerated any less.

Brady had been a hands-on physician. Not only was he on time for every appointment, but he answered any question, no matter how insignificant. He had provided supplemental literature and peer-reviewed articles when Kurt asked for them. He called Kurt at home after every treatment to inquire about how Kurt was faring. Hell, he had even given Kurt his personal cell phone number and told him to call anytime, and had meant it.

Burt didn't know if Kurt had ever called.

He knew his boy had developed a slight crush on the doctor back then, and if Burt knew anything about boys, and he _did_ , Brady had been a little _too_ invested in Kurt's care. What was strange was that he didn't mind. He had been so resistant toward Kurt and Finn dating, but the idea of Kurt and Eric Brady, despite the age difference, didn't bother him too much. Perhaps part of it was because Brady had always treated Kurt as an equal, while Finn had treated him as though he were a child who needed constant minding. The reverse had been much more realistic.

There was also the very real truth that Eric Brady, despite his Midwestern upbringing, love of sports, and all around boy-next-door charisma, was also an intellectual. He could match Kurt, which was something most of Kurt's contemporaries, with the exception of Artie and Quinn, and perhaps Brittany and Santana, could not.

He would never admit it, but part of Burt would prefer to see Kurt with an older man, someone settled and sure of himself, who knew who he was and didn't apologize for it or change to please anyone else. Finn had been so wishy-washy where his relationship with Kurt was concerned, and it had been incredibly unfair to Kurt. Sam had been much better, but Kurt had resisted his efforts with relentless zeal.

Almost at the end of Kurt's radiation cycle, Eric Brady had completed his fellowship and was offered a staff position at Salem University Hospital, located in his hometown. He had been anxious to return, as he had been away for years, particularly to reunite with his mother, Dr. Marlena Evans, a world-renowned psychiatrist.

It had been surprising to learn that Sam was distantly related to the woman, some degree of cousins. Sam wasn't exactly sure, and he and Eric had actually never met, so while they were family, they weren't close. It also been obvious that Sam had resented Eric's presence in Kurt's life.

It had taken a few months before the transfer went through, so Eric had spent the interim with Doctors Without Borders.

Kurt had wanted, and Burt had agreed, to transfer his follow-up care back to Eric once the man had received his privileges at University Hospital. As far as he was concerned, Kurt could have whatever he wanted. Besides, Salem wasn't much more than a two hour drive from Dayton, and maybe three or four from Lima, depending on traffic. If Kurt was well, the visits wouldn't be that frequent, so Burt saw no problem with it.

They had been warned that Eric was running late. Apparently a woman named Alice Horton, who had practically been considered the town matriarch, had passed away. Her funeral was being held today and attendance was expected to be massive. She had been a longstanding and much beloved presence at the hospital and was acquainted with virtually all of its staff.

The nurse who had apprised them of this had intimated that Eric had been very close to Mrs. Horton, whom he had considered as another grandmother. His mother, Marlena, had been one of Mrs. Horton's best friends.

In the meantime, a lovely doctor named Lexie Carver had come into the room to draw some blood, explaining exactly the tests she was ordering and what she was hoping they would show. She and Kurt had hit it off like gangbusters, but then, most women tended to fall a little in love with his son.

So, for now, they were merely waiting.

* * *

Sami Brady was more than a little stunned when, arising from the pew in which she had sat for Alice Horton's service, she had turned and spotted her brother Eric. She hadn't even known he was in town.

That wasn't too surprising, however. Despite the fact that they were twins, they weren't that close. Oh, sure, they loved each other dearly and would probably kill anyone who threatened the other, but Eric had always been so much like their mother.

As for Sami, well, she didn't know which parent she took after. Certainly not Marlena. When she had been a teenager, she had wanted to be nothing like her mother, and now a mother herself, she more understood what had been done to Marlena, how time had been stolen from her. She hadn't appreciated that then, but if someone took her from her own children, Sami would've gone insane.

As for her father...fathers...Roman was a cop and all-around hero. She definitely wasn't like him. John had raised her, practically singlehandedly, and she had thrown it back in his face like the petulant brat she had been and often still was.

She had regretted that and, while they had made peace, she would _always_ regret it. John was a decent guy who had his life hijacked, but he was a damned good father, especially considering he had been conned into raising kids that weren't even his.

She supposed the only family member with whom she felt any affiliation was the woman after whom she was named: her mother's late twin sister, Samantha. From everything she had heard about her Aunt Sam, the woman had been the family black sheep of her generation. Sami could definitely relate.

She had never before stopped to think what it must have been like for her mother to lose her identical twin, a part of herself, especially to violence. As much as Samantha had put Marlena through, and it had been hell, they were still sisters, twins. She couldn't even bear to think about anything happening to Eric, even though he had always been closer to their half-sisters, Carrie and Belle.

Hell, her son was closer to Carrie than to his own mother!

She supposed sometimes patterns repeated themselves. And if anyone was Marlena reincarnated, it was St. Carrie.

She didn't know why she was thinking about all of these things. She thought it was perhaps because of Mrs. Horton's death. Talk about coming out of nowhere. No one had really expected it, even though her health had been failing for a while. Still, Alice Horton had been so solid, so stalwart. She had seemed immortal, and that was how people thought of her. The woman had even held the respect of Stefano DiMera.

Sami looked around the church and couldn't believe all of the mourners. Most of them she knew, had known her entire life. Others she recognized from the hospital and the many charities to which Mrs. Horton had devoted her time.

There were also many she didn't know, though she recognized their names upon hearing them.

There was Sandy Horton, Alice's granddaughter through her son, Tommy, and a physician. Hortons tended to be doctors. She thought her son Will might eventually follow in the footsteps of his father's side of the family.

Melissa Horton had come back, which was no surprise, considering her son Nathan was a doctor and had been caring for his great-grandmother in her final days. Melissa's sister, Sarah, was also present. Sami hadn't seen her in years, could barely remember her. Julie was standing with Doug and Hope, and an older man Sami dimly recognized as Steven Olson and only through pictures Julie had once shown her. Most people had forgotten that Julie and Hope even had a brother.

So many Hortons were in attendance. There were Bill and Laura, who had remarried, and their children, Jennifer and Mike. Jennifer had her children, J.J. and Abigail with her. Mike was there surprisingly with Robin Jacobs; Sami supposed their son Jeremy was probably lurking around somewhere.

Marie Horton. Maggie Horton. Julie's son David Banning, and _his_ son, Scotty. Jessica Fallon.

And Sami had thought her family was complicated, although most of them were here as well: her Uncle Bo, his estranged wife Hope, their grown son Shawn-Douglas and their daughter Ciara; her aunt Kayla, her husband Steve, and their daughter Stephanie; Aunt Kimberly and her husband, Shane, and their children Andrew and Jeannie, who was, for some reason, demanding people call her Theresa.

Her father was there, of course. He had always been close to Mrs. Horton. After all, she had broken him out of jail once.

Carrie had returned, of course. She had always been closer to Alice. Carrie had always been closer to everyone. Sami guessed that the was the advantage of being older. Carrie had done everything first, and Sami had resented her for it. Still did, really.

She slowly approached her immediate family, all but dragging Will with her, perfectly content to use him a human shield. It suddenly struck her how much her son looked like her brother. It was almost eerie.

Predictably, Carrie was hanging all over Eric, who was holding a whispered conversation with their mother while John and Roman pretended not to resent each other. Sami overheard just enough to feel left out once again.

"You've moved back to Salem?" she asked her brother.

Eric blinked. "Hey, Sami. It's great to see you. How are you? Me, I'm just swell, thanks for asking. Oh, that's right! You didn't!"

Marlena and Carrie held their tongues, but Will snickered. Sami couldn't believe her own kid would sell her out like that.

Eric rolled his eyes and threw his arms around her. She reveled in his embrace.

He pulled back and smiled. "Yeah, I have moved back, but it's a very recent thing. I haven't even gotten a place yet, so I'm staying with Mom."

Sami nodded as though this made complete sense. Why hadn't he asked to stay with her?

Oh, right. Probably because she lived in the DiMera mansion now. She could only imagine what Eric and Carrie thought about _that_.

"Are you going to the cemetery?" Marlena asked her son.

Eric shook his head. "I'd like to, but I think it's going to be overcrowded as it is. Besides, I have an appointment at the hospital."

"Are you sick?" asked a confused Sami.

Eric laughed. "No. I have to meet a patient."

"Patient? What do you mean?"

He stared at her. "I have to meet a patient," he said slowly. "It's what doctors do."

"Since when are you a doctor!" she demanded.

Will sighed. "Really, Mom?"

"Are you serious, Sami?" Carrie asked, rolling her eyes.

Even a shocked Marlena couldn't dismiss Sami's ignorance, as she so often had.

Eric shook his head. "What did you think I was doing when I told you I was with Doctors Without Borders?"

"That you were making coffee and dodging rebel gunfire," Sami sniped back.

"You somehow missed the fact that our brother has spent the past decade training to be a doctor?" asked an incredulous Carrie. "You are completely blind to anything not about yourself!"

She suddenly held up her hands. "No, not here. I won't disrespect Mrs. Horton's memory." She shook her head. "I refuse to allow myself to fall back into old patterns. Eric, I'll be in town for a few more days, and I expect some quality face time," she said, kissing his cheek, before throwing her arms around her nephew, Will. "I've missed you so much, sweetie. You've become the smart and gorgeous young man I always knew you would."

Will blushed and hugged her back fiercely. Aunt Carrie had been the first to suspect he was gay and had been nothing but supportive. He believed Grandma was also on to him, but respected him enough to come out to her on his own terms and in his own time. His mother...well.

Carrie hugged Marlena. "I'll call you later, Mom."

Marlena nodded and wished that all of her children could - even if only once - gather together without fights, silences, and nursing old hurts. She repressed a sigh.

Sami wondered when Carrie had started calling Marlena _Mom_. She supposed it made sense; Marlena had spent more time raising Carrie than Anna ever had. Carrie had also been the last one to stop calling John _Dad_ , even though everyone knew she still considered him as such. She had never turned away from John like Sami had. Eric had been, at most, indifferent.

"How did I not know you were a doctor?" Sami whispered to Eric.

His eyes softened. "I don't know," he said honestly.

"I thought you had gone back to school for photography," she murmured. "I thought that was always your dream."

He shrugged. "It was a passion, and it still is, but it was never going to be a profession. I tried my hand at fashion photography and it wasn't for me. Photojournalism is further eroded with every newspaper and magazine that folds. The truth is that I had always wanted to be a doctor."

"You never told me," she said accusingly.

He frowned. "I never told anyone, Sami. I didn't think I would actually be able to do it. We both know I barely got through college. Carrie was always the brain."

Sami grimaced. That was true. Carrie was not only had more common sense than most people, but she was also the intellectual. Neither Roman nor Anna had been, so she didn't know where Carrie got it from. She supposed it was her mother's influence. It had always felt like Carrie was more Marlena's daughter than Sami herself was.

The past and omnipresent resentment bubbled up once more. At least Eric had actually _gone_ to college, she simmered. Belle had gone back and graduated after marrying Shawn-Douglas and having Claire. No, Sami was the only child of Marlena Evans or Roman Brady not to have earned a degree. Well, except for Cassie and Rex. But she didn't know where they were, nor did she care.

"But I finally decided to stop running from it and being afraid to try," he continued. "So I tried, and, to my surprise, I not only loved it, but I was _good_ at it."

Sami didn't have it in her to offer her usual snark or withering comments. This wasn't the time for snide remarks or wailing about how she had never found her own calling. She hadn't see Eric so happy in years. Hell, she hadn't seen _Eric_ in years. Maybe that would have been different had she stopped trying to control his life when he had still lived in Salem. She thought about what her life might have been like had Eric stayed. Probably a lot better, she surmised.

"I'm happy for you," she said, "and I'm proud of you."

He smiled at her.

"We don't really know each other anymore, do we?" she asked. "We're twins, but we don't know each other."

"And we're both at fault for that, Sami."

She blinked, startled by his admission of his own guilt.

He nodded. "I should have actually _called_ you rather than texted. I should have _visited_ rather than emailed. I should have asked you what was going on in your life, rather than hearing second and third-hand accounts from other people. I should have been here when you had your children. But I wasn't, and that's on me."

"And me," she said softly. "I was so busy with so many very unimportant things, that I neglected one of the most important people in my life."

"I know you didn't want me to leave Salem," he said, "and I knew you were furious when I did, but I had to get out, Sami. I had to find out who the hell I was. My entire life here, I was the son of Roman Brady and Marlena Evans. I was the brother of Carrie Brady." He stared into her eyes. "You understand that."

She did, all too well.

"But I don't think you ever knew that I was equally known as _Sami_ Brady's brother. I was the boyfriend of Nicole Walker or Greta von Amberg. I was never just _Eric_."

She startled. No, she hadn't known. Perhaps she hadn't wanted to know.

"Now I'm Dr. Eric Brady." He grinned. "I really like him, and I hope you will, too."

She smiled.

* * *

Burt had stepped out into the lounge to grab a quick cup of coffee and stumbled into an unwelcome blast from the past.

"Anna?"

Anna Fredericks Brady DiMera looked up and couldn't believe her eyes. "Burt?" she whispered.

He swallowed heavily and pasted a smile on his face. "What are you doing here?"

She raised a brow. "I live in Salem. I did for several years before we knew each other, and I've returned to be with my husband and my daughter, when she's in town." She smiled, eyes nostalgic. "And how is Kurt?"

Burt's mouth went dry.

What was he supposed to tell her? The truth? That Kurt was a patient? That he had fought cancer and was now in questionable remission?

What if she demanded to see him? Realistically, he knew he couldn't stop her.

He should have told Kurt years ago, but after Suzanne had died, he had been too afraid to do so. He didn't know why; it wasn't as though it were some great secret or something of which he was ashamed.

Still, he had never found the words to tell his son that, even though he and Suzanne were Kurt's parents, he had been carried and birthed by a surrogate. Namely, Anna.

What if Kurt wanted to know her? What if he wanted to meet Anna's daughter? Would he think of Anna as another mother? Would he consider Carrie as his sister?

He wished Judy and Quinn were here.

He wished Kurt had never gotten sick.

He wished he hadn't kept so many secrets where Kurt was concerned.

Most of all, he wished they had never come to Salem.

* * *

Lexie Carver entered Kurt Hummel's hospital room and forced a smile.

"How are you doing?" she asked in an overly cheerful voice.

His brow furrowed. He knew _phony_ when he heard it.

"Where's your father?"

Kurt pursed his lips. "What's going on?" He looked pointedly at the large folder in her hands. "Are those my test results?"

"We should probably wait for your dad," she said evasively.

He raised a brow. "Excuse me, but I believe I am entitled to know about anything regarding my own health. My father will be soon enough, so you can start talking now. Did something show up in my bloodwork? Is the cancer back?"

"No," she said emphatically. "All signs point to you still being in remission."

"Then what's the big mystery?" he asked with exasperation.

She didn't know what to tell him. She didn't know _how_ to tell him.

How was she supposed to say that she had reviewed all of his reports for the entirety of his treatment, that she had entered that information into his new electronic file at University Hospital, and that his DNA profile had detected a match against another in the system?

How was she supposed to tell him that Marlena Evans was his biological mother?

* * *

 **End Note** : The role of Eric Brady was originated by Jensen Ackles, a.k.a. Dean Winchester. I adore Greg Vaughan, who is now in the role, but I prefer him as Lucky on _General Hospital_ and I have him in that position in _Managed Care_.

Also, the thought of Colferackles is _delicious_.


End file.
